


Kiss with a Fist

by marigoldmonster



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Cliche, Established Relationship, M/M, Not Beta Read, Tsuna is my favorite plot device when I write 8059, Yamamoto is my favorite but I can't write him at all, cheesy as hell, or edited at all, title is to be taken literally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3611325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marigoldmonster/pseuds/marigoldmonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamamoto just wants Gokudera to know that he loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss with a Fist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RubyFiamma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyFiamma/gifts).



“I love you,” Yamamoto said offhandedly while passing back a stack of papers in class.

Gokudera stared incredulously, very aware of the sudden interest from the rest of the class. Even the teacher had stopped talking, opting instead to stare at them in confusion. Gokudera could hear a thud and a groan from someone who had sounded a lot like the tenth from somewhere behind him and the whispers of those around them that were slowly getting louder and louder. Yamamoto had turned to look at him with that stupid smile on his face, the papers held out casually as if he hadn't just said that in front of everybody and now the entire school was going to be talking about this and what the fuck was baseball idiot's problem? Gokudera could feel heat rise to his face, and he clenched his fists, mentally listing the reasons why he shouldn't just break the fucker's nose.

1\. The tenth would be upset if he hit the dumb ass.  
2\. He would get in trouble, and then the tenth would be even more upset.  
3\. If he got in trouble, that bastard Hibari would try to instill discipline or some bullshit like that.  
4\. If he got into a fight with Hibari, the tenth would be upset.  
5\. It was a really nice nose; it'd be a shame if it was his fault it became crooked.  
6\. What the fuck was that? I'm going to punch the bastard anyway.

Gokudera angrily stood from his seat, the chair rattling backwards at the force and slamming into the desk behind his. Yamamoto smiled up at him from his position in his own desk, his expression becoming a little confused and his mouth opening to spew some sort of stupidity that Gokudera just knew was going to piss him off even more. Not wanting that to happen, Gokudera cocked his fist back and threw a punch right into the idiot's mouth. 

Exclamations of shock and the teacher yelling covered the ridiculous sound Yamamoto had made at impact, but Gokudera heard it and snorted in amusement before grabbing his bag and storming out of the room. As he slid the door shut, he heard the tenth's wail of,

“Yamamoto, that's not what I meant for you to do when you asked me for advice!”

By lunch time, Gokudera had been sitting on the roof for close to three hours. He twitched slightly at the bell, and glanced at the evidence of his presence piled at his side. He sighed in frustration and began to gather the cigarette butts and dust away the ashes as best he could, lest Hibari come to take a nap and kill him for breaking at least five rules in one go.

The door leading to the staircase creaked open, and Gokudera turned his attention to it with his best scowl on. When Tsuna squeaked in surprise at the intimidating expression, Gokudera relaxed and offered him a smile. Tsuna smile back and took a seat next to him, eyeing the cigarettes in his ash covered fingers with distaste.

“You really shouldn't let that get into your wound,” Tsuna chided lightly as he pulled his knees up to his chest. Gokudera shrugged in reply, “I'll wash it later.”

Tsuna eyed him with disapproval, looking so much like his mother that Gokudera felt a little cowed.

“Or I'll go wash them now,” he muttered as he rose to his feet. Tsuna smiled so brightly that Gokudera swore his eyes were watering.

“Make sure you go to the infirmary to clean them correctly! Doctor Shamal isn't here today, so you shouldn't have any problems getting in!” 

Gokudera nodded absentmindedly, already halfway to the door. His trip to the infirmary was followed by pointed hands and whispering as well as the occasional group of girls giggling. The anger that he had calmed with three hours of chain smoking was rapidly making an appearance again, and Gokudera felt like he couldn't get to the damn sick bay quick enough.

He slammed the door open with a snarl, his hands itching to reach into his pocket for another cigarette or a stick of dynamite, he honestly didn't care which at this point. He stalked over the the cabinets, slamming those open as well and rifling through them with no regard for the mess he was making. He found the antiseptic and bandages and slammed the doors shut, ignoring the sound of one of the glass jars breaking, and turned on the sink. He cursed when the water sprayed his shirt and cursed again even louder when he dropped the bottle of antiseptic in surprise. The bottle had rolled under the curtains separating the beds from the rest of the room, and Gokudera was muttering under his breath when he yanked the white fabric aside.

“Gokudera?”

Gokudera jerked his head up in shock. Yamamoto was sitting on one of the beds with an ice pack pressed against the side of his mouth and the bottle Gokudera had dropped held loosely in his other hand.

“Baseball idiot,” he sneered in reply, furtively trying to stop the blush from spreading over his cheeks. Yamamoto offered him the bottle with the same stupid smile he had worn earlier that day, and Gokudera just knew that his entire face was probably flushed red.

“What happened to your hand?” Gokudera glanced down at the hand in question and winced at the red knuckles covered in gray smears of ash. He played it off with a scoff, trying to ignore the stinging pain he hadn't felt until he had actually seen the damage, and snatched the bottle from the other.

“I punched some dumbass in the mouth for being stupid.” Yamamoto smiled again as he stood and began to usher Gokudera back towards the running sinks.

“Yeah?” Yamamoto asked, his hand warm on Gokudera's back even through the thick fabric of his blazer, “What did they do?” 

“Bastard said he loved me in the middle of class like it was no big deal,” Gokudera sneered as he thrust his hand into the running water, hissing at the stinging cold against his burning skin. Yamamoto placed his ice pack down and reached over to help, wiping his fingers over Gokudera's hand until it was clean. 

Gokudera turned off the water and turned to say something that was lost the minute he caught sight of Yamamoto's mouth. His lips were swollen with a cut on the left side where one of Gokudera's rings must have caught him. Gokudera winced at the vivid color, and Yamamoto laughed.

“The guy you punched sounds like he was a real dumbass,” he offered lightly as he led Gokudera back to the cots with the bandages and antiseptic in one hand.

“Christ, this is why you shouldn't have said that, you idiot,” Gokuera muttered while he rubbed the cream against his knuckles. Yamamoto shrugged nonchalantly and began to wrap the bandages for him. They were quiet until they finished, Yamamoto getting up to put the supplies away before coming back to sit close enough to Gokudera that their thighs were pressed up against each other.

“Does it still hurt?” Gokudera asked as he prodded at Yamamoto's mouth with his wrapped hand. Yamamoto flinched back and glared slightly, his outrageous pout made even more so with his swollen lips. Gokudera snorted and turned to hide his smile. Yamamoto leaned all of his weight on him, tilting them both slightly, and pressed his face into the other's line of sight.

“Yes, it hurts,” Yamamoto fake whimpered, “Kiss it better.” He pursed his lips into an even bigger pout, and Gokudera snickered and pushed his face away.

“I'm not kissing you when you have a face like that,” he teased as he poked at the bruising again. Yamamoto slapped his hand lightly and frowned, “But it's your fault my face is like this so you should be obligated or something to kiss it better.”

“Do you ask everyone who punches you in the face to kiss it better?” Gokudera asked as he leaned further away from where Yamamoto was slowly but surely coming in closer.

“Nah, only you,” Yamamoto replied with a cheesy wink. Gokudera huffed as Yamamoto kept leaning towards him until eventually his back was against the hard mattress with Yamamoto putting all of his weight on him.

“Would you get-” Yamamoto pressed his lips against Gokudera's before jerking away just as quickly as he'd started.

“It hurts,” he whined pitifully with a heartbroken look on his face, his hand covering his mouth. Gokudera snorted and leaned over to peck him on the cheek,

“You are such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Yamamoto agreed when Gokudera pressed another kiss to his face. He leaned in to press his own kiss on Gokudera's mouth again with the same result as before. Again, he had that ridiculous pout of his face as a result, and Gokudera just snickered as he peppered more kisses everywhere on Yamamoto's face but his lips.


End file.
